


In Vino Veritas

by ShinyGreenApple



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Armitage Hux is a Tease, Biting, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff, Gingerflower, Gingerrose - Freeform, Hux and Ben are alive, Kissing, Post-Rise of Skywalker, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, coat sharing trope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:15:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22286197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShinyGreenApple/pseuds/ShinyGreenApple
Summary: Hux was taken under wing by the gang after being shot and now resides at the Resistance Base on Ajan Kloss. He finds himself on a particular evening sharing stolen wine with former enemy turned ally, Rose Tico. He only means to drink away life for a little while, little does he know the walls he's built around himself are about to begin their irreversible crumbling.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Rose Tico
Comments: 43
Kudos: 185





	In Vino Veritas

**Author's Note:**

> I give you my humble attempt at this thing called GingerRose. (GingerFlower? Have we decided on an official name yet?) I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did creating it!

“What are you doing?”

Hux flinched guiltily at the voice behind him and turned around to face her. It was no surprise that she smirked at him when she should have been, at the very least, cross. He certainly would have been, had he been in her place and found a _Resistance_ prisoner sneaking about in the store rooms. He sighed deeply, turning around and rolling his eyes at her.

“I’m _stealing_ , Miss Tico. Do us both a favor and please just turn me in and get my execution hurried along like I’ve been asking, will you?”

It was her turn to roll her eyes. “You’re not even technically a real prisoner anymore. And we don’t execute people here, how many times do I have to tell you that?”

“You should,” he countered, annoyed.

“So you’ve told me. Many times. What is that you’ve got there, anyways?” She nodded at him.

His face twisted into a sour scowl and he held up his stolen goods in one hand. “I know I’m not supposed to have it, but for fuck’s sake, it’s dreadful here. I need this.”

She reached out, smiling, and examined the bottle he grasped. “Coruscant Red. Never would have taken you for someone fond of sweet wines. This was one of General Organa’s favorites, you know. Or at least that’s what Poe and Ben have said.”

‘ _Ben,’_ he thought venomously. _‘Nothing but a traitorous snake, the same as FN-2187. Pathetic.’_ “Take it, then,” he scowled.

“What makes you think I’m going to take it from you?”

He huffed, annoyed at his struggle to find words when for so long he had boasted such sharp and quick wits. “Why the hell _wouldn’t_ you take a contraband item from a prisoner of war? You Resistance swill really are as simple as I’ve always thought, aren’t you?”

“I’d consider that hurtful if it was the worst thing you’ve ever done or said to me,” she laughed. She sighed at the look of utter bemusement and slight anger that clouded his otherwise, she was reluctant to admit, attractive face. “No, Mr. Hux, I’m not going to take your stupid wine. We’ve loads of it here and people have been more apt to reach for the stronger stuff since – ” she winced, feeling oddly sympathetic – “Since the war ended. I’m sure one bottle won’t be missed.”

He couldn’t help but notice the way her eyes narrowed, almost playfully. That was the infuriating and most confusing thing about the Resistance – most of them had a peculiarly indomitable spirit even in the worst of situations. Why he hadn’t been disposed of yet, remained no small mystery to him. Surely Ren, or _Ben,_ or whatever ridiculous moniker the former Supreme Leader was going by these days, should have been eager to spill everything he knew about Hux at this point, shouldn’t he? Hux wondered why the man hadn’t stopped by to gloat at least once by now. But then again, nothing had ever made sense about him before, why should it now?

“You’re serious?” he inquired, his own face twisting into suspicion now, almost protectively pulling the bottle against his chest. The coolness of the glass against his skin through the thin shirt was a source of familiar comfort, even if it had been ages since had been able to properly indulge and let go; serving under Kylo Ren had not been an easy task and did not allow for much time to himself in spite of one humiliating demotion after the other.

“Dead serious,” she replied, not quite winking.

He absurdly chewed at his lip now, clutching the bottle like a child holding his stuffed toy and arguing about bedtime.

“What?” she asked. “Do you want it, or not?” It was both unsettling and oddly endearing, the change in his demeanor, from cold, unfeeling, haughty, to uncertain and almost boyish.

“There’s really no way I win in this situation, is there?”

“ _What?_ ”

“If I take it, you win because you let me have it. If I don’t take it, you win by stopping me from having it.”

She closed her eyes pointedly for a few seconds, shaking her head. “Why is everything about winning with you?”

He looked down at his feet, arms dropping to his sides, absentmindedly thumping the bottle against his good leg, and actually smiled. “In my nature. And lately all I’ve done is lose.”

“This might come across as crass and I don’t care, but from what I’ve experienced of your ‘nature’ in the past, it’s pretty crappy.” She stepped closer to him, reaching down to take the bottle by the neck and lifting it up to examine it, now held in both their hands. “The sooner you learn there’s more to the galaxy than conquering and winning, the sooner you’ll stop being so miserable.” She met his eyes with a small smile. “Sometimes, Hux, a drink is just a drink.” She pushed it towards him.

He wore a slight frown, hesitating before slowly accepting his purloined treasure. Remaining endearingly suspicious, he took one step back, and then another, only a slight falter noticeable in his left leg as he made his unhurried retreat, at last turning on his heel.

“Good luck,” she said in a sly, almost sing-song tone.

“With what?”, he scowled, picking up his pace as much as he could. “Finding myself, repairing my tarnished, troubled soul?” His voice practically dripped venomous undertones.

“No!” She laughed. “Uncorking that. Goodnight, Mr. Hux.”

He stopped in his tracks, disappointment crashing down on him like the debris that still rained from the sky after the battle of Exegol; while he had been reluctantly granted more privileges than a prisoner of war usually was, due to the invaluable information he had leaked to them for so long, the Resistance had still seen fit to keep him as neutral as possible, which included not allowing him anything that could be used as a weapon.

Like corkscrews.

He looked at the wine in his hand and sighed heavily, frowning and rolling his eyes, before whirling back around. “Miss Tico!” He winced at his own haste, his leg still hadn’t quite healed and he wasn’t sure at this point if it ever would. Rose continued to walk away, but glanced over her shoulder at him with a smirk. “Miss Tico, wait!”

* * *

“You don’t have to share, you know,” she quipped as he handed her a battered cup.

“ _Do you want it, or not?_ ” he mocked, throwing her earlier words back at her with a sneer. “Merely a gesture of thanks, is all, or are you worried you’ll be incriminated along with me?”

“I promise, no one is going to miss this,” she countered, confident.

“Just like no one misses me,” he said with alarming casualness. He ignored the look of shock on her face, denying any possibility of sympathy that also lurked there, and raised his cup with a haughty grin, looking more like his former self. “To petty thievery.”

She clicked her cup against his, still staring at him as if he’d grown a second head. “Cheers, I guess?” She took a sip, continuing to study him. “I can’t decide if you’re the most arrogant or the most self-depreciating person I’ve ever met.”

He did not answer, choosing instead to simply nurse his drink and stare out at the sky above them where they sat on a grassy ridge. It was growing late, but the sounds of the Resistance still celebrating, rebuilding, and quietly mourning lingered on steadily in the distance, barely audible. He had finished and was pouring himself more when he finally spoke again. “You must lurk here often, it didn’t take you long to find this little nook.”

“Sometimes it’s nice to be away from noises, from screens.” She took another drink. “People.”

“Good to know you don’t consider me ‘people’,” he said dryly.

“That’s _not_ what I meant and even you’re smart enough to know it.”

“So sure of that, little rebel, that I’m human? I’ve been little more than part of a machine for most of my life. It amounted to nothing.” He shook his head. “Nothing.”

“You feel pain just like the rest of us,” she teased, eyes going to his left leg.

“Do you see that planet, Miss Tico? Just there,” he pointed. “Third from the right, a little smaller than the rest, but brighter?”

“Oolinian 3, yes, I see it.”

“I was going to blow that one up, you know. It was next on my list, after D’Qar. Before _you people_ stopped me.”

“There’s the old General Hux,” she smiled darkly, laughing just a bit.

“You find my desire to snuff out life amusing?” he inquired, one eyebrow raised.

“Hardly,” she scoffed. “You just sound so posh and proper while you sit there and casually talk about mass murder and planetary destruction.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “I could have been a gentleman in another life.”

“You could be one in this one,” she prodded gently.

He ignored her, peering over to look at her cup. “You’re almost empty, let’s get you topped off.”

They sat in silence for some time after that, lost in their own, very different thoughts. The moons had risen high above them, illuminating their grassy seat and giving it a ghostly blue hue. It was almost obnoxiously bright and yet gave off a beauty that no artificial light could ever match. Hux couldn’t remember the last time he had enjoyed natural light in lieu of unfeeling florescent bars. Still, space had been his home for so long, and he thought wistfully of the _Finalizer_ , surely by now captured or reduced to detritus. He surreptitiously leaned down, producing a second bottle that he had nicked while her back had been turned and popping the cork.

“Hitting that a little hard, aren’t you?” she teased. He had forfeited pouring now and was, for lack of a better term, _glugging_ straight from the bottle, handing the corkscrew back to her.

“Does it bother you?” he shrugged.

“Would you care if it did?”

“No,” he smirked. He set the bottle down between them. “It’s just been a long day, is all,” he said dismissively.

“Really long day,” she quipped, staring at the level of wine remaining.

“Go on,” he nodded, pressing the bottle into her hands.

“Trying to get me drunk, spy guy?”

He gave her a rare smile. “Finally giving me a vis-a-vis moniker, little rebel?”

“Answer my question.”

“You’re already drinking with me anyways and I’m not used to deliberate foolishness. It needs company.”

“You were enough of a fool before I even met you,” she said curtly, bringing the bottle to her lips.

“Isn’t it bad enough that FN –”

“Don’t call him that,” she warned.

“ _Fine_ ,” he replied, teeth gritted. “That _Finn_ wounded me physically without you needing to wound my pride, too?”

“Think of it as reconditioning,” she grinned.

“Is your hand on my thigh part of this reconditioning?” he smirked. “That hurts, by the way.”

She looked down in horror; she did indeed have a death grip on his leg, which she relinquished immediately.

“Kriff!” she hissed, scowling at the bottle of wine, now nearly empty. Hux swayed slightly where he sat, eyes just on the edge of going in and out of focus, and her head swam. “This was a mistake.”

“Probably. We can head back.”

“Can you even stand up?”

He placed his hands on either side of himself, bracing for a moment and rocking forward just a bit before thinking better of it. “Good point.”

“We’ll both be in trouble if we go back now,” she stated bluntly, leaning back and crossing her arms with a loud sigh.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered quietly. It sounded remarkably sincere.

“Don’t be,” she shook her head, a smile overriding her annoyance. “It was my fault as much as yours, and I dunno,” she glanced at him. “I think it’s worth it just to see you this drunk. _Apologizing_. I would have thought you could hold your liquor a little better though.”

“Once upon a time,” he mused, turning to look at her. “However, once Ren took over...” he shook his head. “He had me firmly under his thumb or on a leash in one way or another at all times. Believe me, I wanted to drink until I forgot, consequences be damned. He made sure I never had the time or energy. He was so afraid I’d betray him.” He grinned widely, in a way that would have seemed wicked had she not been grateful for his unexpected betrayal of the First Order. “Even chained dogs dig holes quickly,” he added quietly.

“Should I take that as a warning you’re going to ‘dig a hole’ anytime soon?”

His face twitched, slipping into a strange, almost forlorn expression, the light of the rising twin moons turning his skin an even lighter shade of pale. “Where would I go?” he asked softly.

“I would miss you.”

“ _What?_ ”

“I don’t know where you’d go,” she shrugged, sitting back up. “But I’d miss you if you did.”

“Stupid girl,” he scolded softly, no real malice or contempt behind his words.. “You’re quite as drunk as I am, Miss Tico, and for that I _am_ sorry. This is quite unbecoming on both of us.”

“You’re so uptight,” she laughed.

“And you’re not tight enough”, he muttered. “Seriously, this doesn’t bother you?”

“It probably should, but no. The only thing bothering me at the moment is the fact that it’s gotten very cold.”

He didn’t fail to notice the way she was eyeing his coat, the same one he’d worn for years as one of the most powerful men in the galaxy, now befittingly bare of it’s former insignia and rank stripes. He’d taken them off himself as a final good riddance to the lie that had been his life as an officer in the First Order. “You sit in the company of someone who once gave the order to end your life . . . and you’re bothered by a little chill in the air.”

“Yup.”

He watched her looking at the stars for a few more beats. “Why would you miss me?” he asked, almost defiantly, as if he were daring her to find anything positive about him.

“You keep things interesting. No one expected you of all people to be the one who was helping us all of that time.”

“Your idiot General did, or so he claims, anyways. But go on.”

She shrugged. “Who else is going to hang around and call me insulting names all day?”

“Two,” he sneered at her, eyes narrowed. “I’ve called you two names, and you earned them both. ‘ _Chompy_ ’.” He rubbed at his hand theatrically and muttered something under his breath.

“What was that?” she snapped, suppressing a shiver.

“Nothing,” he replied, a little too quickly.

“No, not nothing. It was about me, I know it. Spit it out!”

“I _said_ ,” he nearly shouted, “– that you can’t even bite someone correctly!”

She broke into fits of laughter, hugging herself to ward off the steadily dropping temperature. “You’re ridiculous!” she giggled, failing to suppress a snort. “Are you _really_ criticizing the way I bit you?” She continued to laugh for several minutes, and he continued to try and convince himself, unsuccessfully, that it was annoying. He also failed to convince himself not to feel at least a tiny bit badly for her as she rubbed at her arms, and he reluctantly stood up for a moment to pull one arm out of his coat and draped it over her shoulders with a scowl.

“About time,” she teased, pulling it closer around herself and scooting just a bit closer to him. “I knew there was room in this stupid thing for both of us.”

“Only because you’re the size of a mouse droid.”

“There you go with your name calling again, spy guy.”

He turned to look down at her and she was reminded for the first time since infiltrating his star destroyer so many months ago just how tall he really was. Except now, especially with a few strands of his hair hanging loosely over his forehead, for once not plastered into unnatural submission, in place of the intimidation he had exuded before, there was something different, almost human. Almost safe.

“That was a comparison, not name calling, little rebel.” His voice had gone uncharacteristically soft and she suddenly felt a bit too warm under the weight of the shared greatcoat.

“So,” she went on, the confidence in her voice sounding more forced than it needed to be. “Tell me what _is_ the correct way to bite a person, anyways? Since you’re so smart.”

“I think you’ll grasp the concept much better if I show you instead.” He stared at her unflinchingly now and she wondered why she had never noticed that his eyes were quite so blue.

She nodded. “Okay.”

He allowed his surprise to take him for no more than a second before lifting her hand upwards. “There are several ways,” he explained softly. “But never – ” he shook his head in reprimand – “never the fingers. They can be occupied thus”. He laced his into her own, pleased at the lack of trembling from either of them. His eyes dropped to her neck and his mouth followed, teeth barely grazing the sensitive skin of her throat two, three times for good measure. He pulled away, gauging her face for a response, keeping the smile at bay behind his stony facade of order. “Do you understand now?”

“I think so. But you said there were several ways,” she answered sheepishly.

“Such a thirst for learning,” he whispered. “I admire that.” He slid one hand into her hair, pushing it up and out of the way. “Pressures of varying severity can be applied, depending on the aggressiveness of one party and the tolerance of the other.” He leaned in again, this time tentatively closing his teeth over her flesh in earnest, fingers tightening over her hand at the little yelp she let out. “Don’t hesitate to stop me if this lesson grows too intense for your liking, Miss Tico.” He dragged his tongue soothingly over the place he’d nipped at so roughly.

“No no,” she whispered breathlessly. “Go on. I’m f – fine. I’m fine.”

“Sometimes marks are left behind. Generally, one wishes for these not to be seen, however –” he closed in without warning, biting down hard and sucking a bruise onto her skin when he felt her take a fistful of his hair in her hand. “Accidents do happen,” he glanced up, hints of amusement showing through his icy gaze, his breathing gone heavier.

“Is that all?” she asked, somehow managing to keep a straight face and even tone of voice.

He shook his head. “We’ve barely taken a fingernail to the surface. We don’t have time to go over all of them tonight. However, I will end our lesson with my personal favorite, if you’ll indulge me?” He didn’t need her nod of permission to know the answer, but couldn’t stop the small smile on his lips when she gave it, nonetheless. His eyes went to her mouth before fluttering closed and he gently took her lower lip between his teeth, nibbling at it with more tenderness than anyone with a reputation as heartless as his own had a right to. He made to pull back when the hand in his hair crept down to his neck and pulled him close, her mouth slowly, but desperately seeking his in a way that no longer involved teeth. He hesitated slightly, but obliged, relinquishing his hold and pressing his lips against hers firmly, lingering for so many blissful seconds before nudging just a bit, allowing himself the softest of groans when he was able to slip his tongue between her lips and kiss her more thoroughly, _properly_ , stopping only to suck in a breath of air before she countered his actions, mirroring the push and pull and turning of tables that they had experienced at each other’s hands as opposing sides in the war. Yet there was nothing malicious here, except for perhaps Hux’s further betrayal of his own self, that personal set of codes that had kept him alive, kept him mostly safe, for this long. He allowed her to press her lips to his one last time before lazily, but firmly pulling away. “We’ll end our lesson here,” he said, voice husky and uneven. “You’re obviously easily distracted.”

She took a deep breath, exhaling through parted lips and trying to force her face into submission again. “Will there be another?” she inquired, rather boldly, even for her.

He nodded, squeezing her hand again. “Next time I’ll expect you to practice what I’ve taught you, is that understood?”

  
  


She glanced away slyly, and then back at him as innocently as she could muster. “Or I could do it now. We might die tomorrow, you never know.”

He shook his head in disbelief, unable to fight the smile now. “We might,” he agreed, eyes wide. “Stranger things have happened.”

She bit her lip, beaming, and leaned in, one hand on his chest, and gently pushed against him. He was halfway down, one hand on her waist and the other snaked into her hair again when they both froze.

“Get down!” she hissed frantically, shoving him out of sheer panic now instead of infatuation and trembling against him where they lay. The gentle electric humming, joined by a twin noise almost immediately, had startled them both into a state of unease. “Where are they?” she whispered.

“Shh!” he rebuked softly. “Not close, at least I don’t think.” He cautiously turned his head to face the direction of the sound and his suspicion was confirmed. “Too far too see us, not that either of them need their eyes to know we’re here, though.”

She followed his gaze; several hundred yards away were two figures at the top of a rise in the land, one significantly smaller than the other, sabers out and glowing bright blue. They sparred almost lazily, as if the act itself were more fulfilling than actually trying to best each other in the end.

Hux sighed, disappointed and quite honestly shaken, hoping she didn’t notice the way every last muscle in his body had gone stiff. He had been humbled, but thrilled to have found asylum within the Resistance. He had been _less than thrilled_ when Rey returned from Exegol and happily pulled one Ben Solo from the cockpit of her X-Wing upon landing. “I’m sorry, little rebel,” he murmured. “It looks like we’ll have to postpone lesson two, after all. I’m afraid the moment has been spoiled.”

“You still don’t like him.”

He shook his head, tightening his grasp on her ever so lightly. “No. No, I do not, nor do I think I ever will.”

“He came to see you, you know. While you were sedated in medbay.”

“That would explain the nightmares,” he replied humorlessly.

“He tried to heal you.”

“What?”

“Rey wouldn’t let him, said he had already given too much to her and was too weak. She was right, but they still argued about it.”

“Just as well, I’m glad she stopped him. Would have been another thing for him to hold over my head, to gloat about.”

“He’s different now,” she said gently.

“Had you ever met him before his supposed reformation?” he asked shrewdly.

“No,” she admitted softly. “But I met you before yours.”

He visibly cringed, face scrunching in a way that made him nearly unrecognizable as the man who once filled so many holocasts with his speeches. “You think I’m going to become _Ben Solo_?” he asked, disgusted.

They both glanced up at the rise; Rey and Ben had evidently put aside their faux duel, given the fact that both of them appeared to be floating in mid air even as they sat face to face. Hux looked down at Rose. “I can’t do _that_ ,” he said, playfully apologetic.

“I don’t want you to,” she laughed. “That’s weird.”

“Then who, pray tell, little rebel, am I to be?”

She smiled, tugging the coat off of his right arm where it lay on the ground pointlessly from when they ducked down and swung it around behind her so that it covered them both, hands resting on his shoulders and head on his chest. “Whoever hatred and war stopped you from being in the first place.”

“Do you know what, Miss Tico? I think I may have won this evening, after all.” He pulled her close, pressing his cheek to the top of her head.

“I think maybe we both did.”

He tentatively let his arms close around her even tighter, confidence boosted when she didn’t shy away or flinch at his touch. He didn’t know who this man was, the one she was so sure he was going to become, but he had the feeling that he was someone with a lot of nighttime lessons in this hidden spot in his future.

  
  


  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I think coat-sharing has become the gateway trope to this pairing? I can't help it, I still like putting people who are not Hux in Hux's huge coat. With him still in it, if I can manage. 
> 
> Did I do OK? As always, please let me know, your feedback is the fuel that keeps writers writing! Also feel free to pick at any spelling or grammatical errors.


End file.
